Crystalbringer

«Big Brother... can you do that thing you used to do to me when I was little?» I plead softly, my voice almost a whisper, as I look up at Chris Leviantis, my older brother. He's fourteen, four years older than me, and honestly, the most beautiful person in the world. His green eyes shine like gems under the dim light of the room, and his blond bob-cut hair—just like mine—perfectly frames his face. It's no wonder all my friends are head over heels for him, but Chris is mine. My big brother belongs to me, and woe to anyone who tries to take him away!

Right now, Chris is glued to the television, playing his favourite video game.

«Remember to turn off the TV and go to bed by 9:30 p.m.» Mom told us before heading upstairs. It's nearly ten o'clock now, way past the time he's allowed to play, but tonight our parents must have been extra tired—they went to bed over an hour ago and haven't come down to check on us yet.

«Come on, Brianne, you're too old for this kind of thing now. Let me play in peace!» Chris groans, barely glancing at me, his fingers tapping furiously on the controller.

But I'm not giving up. I slide off the chair and plop down right next to him on the couch, so close our legs are touching—my right leg pressed against his left. «Please, big brother! Please, please, pleeease!» I whine, persistent as ever, deploying my ultimate weapon: relentless begging. It always works on him.

To make him even more frustrated, I tilt my head sideways, completely blocking his view of the screen.

«Brianne, will you knock it off already?» he snaps, clearly losing patience. «You're not a little kid anymore. Go get yourself a boyfriend and have him do it for you!»

A boyfriend? At ten years old? Absolutely not! I'm way too young for such nonsense! Besides, even if I weren't… "I want you to do it! And you'll do it for me even when I'm older!" I shoot back, upping my efforts to get under his skin. "If Clare asked you, I'm sure you'd do it for her in a heartbeat!" I add accusingly.

«Clare?» He frowns, clearly confused. «You mean Clare Azuralis? That redheaded classmate of yours who's always over here? Honestly, I have no idea how you two are the same age. She looks like she's fifteen, acts like she's twenty, and you…» He pauses for dramatic effect, smirking. «…you are a ten-year-old who behaves like a preschooler»

«Big brother, you're so mean!» I whine, punching his shoulder with all the force my small fist can muster. «Even Clare thinks you're cool! I won't let her come over anymore when you're around!»

«Shut it» he retorts, shrugging off my attack. «As if I'd ever date a ten-year-old. Although…» He flashes a teasing grin. «…she is very rich. Once she's of age, I might consider it»

I immediately throw my arms into an exaggerated X. «You and Clare? Absolutely not!» I grab his arm and shake it with growing desperation. «Do that thing I like so much, and I promise I won't ask for an entire week! Please, please, pleeeease!»

Chris lets out a long, exasperated sigh. «Fine! But only for five minutes, got it? And don't even think about asking again for at least a month!»

«Deal! Deal! Deal!» I cheer, practically bouncing in place. Overcome with joy, I leap straight up from the couch, landing with a victorious grin plastered across my face.

Chris reluctantly pauses the video game, placing the controller on the floor, and brings his legs together with a slow, hesitant motion. «Alright, get on with it» he mutters under his breath, avoiding my gaze.

I don't need to be told twice. I lie down sideways, resting my head on his thighs. My eyes close, and a huge grin spreads across my face, so bright it might as well glow on its own. But the real moment of bliss comes when his fingers start moving through my long, silky hair, the tips of his fingers brushing gently against my scalp. 

A shiver of happiness and excitement runs through me, as if this was the very first time he's done this. Back when we were younger, my big brother used to do this every night to help me fall asleep. But now—now that he's growing up—he doesn't give me the same attention as before. I guess that's normal, right? He's got his group of friends to hang out with in the afternoons, not to mention all those girls fawning over him—ugh, there are way too many of them! Still, he'll always be my big brother, and I'll always be his little sister!

«I love you so much, big brother» I whisper in the sweetest voice I can muster, snuggling even closer to him.

His face turns as red as a tomato. «Brianne… I've told you, we're not kids anymore…»

«Just because we're not kids anymore, I can't love my big brother?» I reply, my voice tinged with confusion, not understanding why he'd say something like that. «Why don't you ever tell me you love me?»

Chris's face somehow turns even redder, almost as red as Clare's hair. «Brianne, stop it. It's embarrassing…»

«You're embarrassed to tell your little sister you love her? Why?» I ask, tilting my head, completely puzzled.

«I didn't say-»

BANG! BANG!

The sharp, unsettling sound echoes from upstairs, where the bedrooms are. It's so loud, it rattles through the walls. My heart skips a beat. What... what is that? I don't want to believe it. I really don't want to think it. But the terror creeping up my spine is undeniable.

Before I can even process what's happening, Chris jumps up from the couch so quickly that I end up stumbling and falling to the floor. I barely catch myself, my breath caught in my throat. Seconds later, two men appear at the top of the stairs.

They're dressed in dark suits, black as night, and wear balaclavas that cover their faces completely, leaving only their eyes exposed. One pair is a dull brown, but the other... the other pair is like ice. Cold, calculating, and full of malice. The sight of them sends a chill through me, like my blood's turned to ice.

The men are holding guns. My mind can't catch up with the situation. The noises from upstairs... My parents… My throat tightens. I can't breathe. I can't think. Tears suddenly start to pour down my face, hot and unstoppable. I don't even know when it happened. My body is shaking, trembling like I'm freezing. My legs feel weak, like they're about to give way entirely, and I drop to the floor, my hands shaking as I try to get some hold of myself.

I grab onto Chris's arm, my last thread of comfort. I need him. I want to feel safe. I want him to make everything better like he always does. But instead of holding me, he pulls away, pushing me backward, and my heart sinks, heavy and aching.

Chris's gaze is filled with tension and raw fear. His jaw clenches so hard I can hear his teeth grinding, a sound that makes my heart race with dread. «Brianne, run and hide!" His voice is strained, desperate, breaking with emotion.

«Big brother, I-»

«Run and hide, I said!» He cuts me off, his voice more furious than I've ever heard it. His face, usually so strong and composed, is now streaked with tears—anger and despair swirling in his eyes, ready to explode.

Hide? Where? What can I do? But I don't have time to question it. I must listen. I must obey.

I take a shaky step back, but before I can move any further, one of the men points the barrel of his gun at me and fires.

My big brother… He's different. I've always known that. Every sister thinks her big brother is a hero, but he—he truly is one.

A massive wall of ice bursts into existence in front of me, materialising out of thin air, a shimmering barrier between me and the bullet. I watch as the bullet embeds itself into the solid ice, unable to move past it.

I'm not exaggerating when I say my brother is a superhero. He's been like this for two years, able to do the impossible. He once tried to explain it to me, but it's so complicated—too complicated for a ten-year-old like me to understand. But I get the gist. There's water in the air, invisible to the eye, and somehow, Chris can pull it out and turn it into ice at will. It's hard to believe, I know, but it's true. It's our little secret, one I would never tell anyone.

«Just as we thought, he has the Ice Crystal» the man says with the terrifying eyes, his voice filled with satisfaction. «You and your little high school friends, playing policeman at night, aren't very good at hiding your abilities»

«What the hell are you babbling about?!» Chris shouts, his voice burning with fury.

«You should be more careful when using your powers out in the open. Someone might see you» the man mutters in a sadistic tone. He pulls out a small glass vial from inside his jacket, filled with a thick, translucent liquid, inside which float three small, colorful shards of crystal. He shakes the vial mockingly. «Only yours is missing»

«Bastards, I'll kill you!» Chris yells, his fury overwhelming him.

The ice wall shatters, breaking into a thousand sharp fragments. The tiny, razor-edged pieces float in the air, all aimed directly at the two men. With a flick of his hand, Chris sends the shards flying, each one whizzing through the air with deadly speed.

The man with the terrifying eyes catches his companion by the arm and pulls him in front of himself like a human shield. The man screams in the most gut-wrenching way as the needles of ice pierce his body, each one making a different sickening sound upon entry. The screams go through my bones, loud and high-pitched enough to echo in my skull. Blood gushes out of every wound, spurting with every shard embedding in his body, piercing him like a pincushion.

I'm crouched under the table, my heart racing in my chest. The door is locked, and the only place I could find to hide from the bullets was here, under the heavy wooden table in the living room.

I don't have to do anything. I'll just stay hidden here. My big brother will take care of everything. He'll save me.

When the gunfire stops, the man tosses the mangled body he'd used as a shield, and it thuds heavily down the stairs. Without hesitation, he pulls out a second pistol—its barrel longer than the first—and points it directly at the table where I'm cowering.

«I don't think this gun's bullets will pierce your ice wall, but I'm sure they'll tear through the table where your precious little sister is hiding» the man mocks, his voice dripping with malice.

«You bastard... hurt a single hair on my sister's head, and I swear to God—»

«That you'll kill me?» the man interrupts Chris with a cold laugh. «Why don't you go ahead? I'm standing here, gun aimed at your sister. What are you waiting for, huh? Or maybe you're afraid I know the weak spot in your impenetrable defense?»

Weak spot of my brother? What is he talking about? My heart is racing, confusion drowning me in the chaos.

«Time's up, kid» The man sneers as his finger pulls the trigger and a bullet fly through the air.

In an instant, Chris reacts. Another wall of ice shoots up, a desperate shield to save me from the deadly path of the bullet. But then. I hear it. Another shot.

What is happening? I can't see anything through the shattered wall of ice. All I hear are the sounds of chaos, of my brother and that man, but it's impossible to make sense of it.

«Big brother! Big brother!» I scream, but there's no reply. No answer.

The ice falls apart, breaking into a thousand sharp pieces, scattering across the room, and when this happens... I see him—my brother—slumped on the ground, motionless. A piercing scream rips from my throat as I watch him, helpless and covered in blood. His chest is drenched, a crimson flood spilling from his mouth.

«Big brother... open your eyes, please!» I plead in a quavering voice. My tears fall unrestrained, mingling with the blood on his face. «Big brother... please, wake up»

Man's footsteps echo from the stairs.

«Big brother... big brother...» I continue to shake him, but he says nothing. Nothing. His body is cold to my hands.

Then, in slow motion, his eyelids flutter. Just the tiniest movement, really—his eyes open a fraction, two fragile slits through which I can glimpse his emerald irises, dull but there. His voice is so faint, barely a whisper. «I love you, my little sister»

A desperate scream rips through the silence of the night. Brianne's frantic cries echo as she bolts upright, her body trembling uncontrollably on the large, soft mattress where she has been lying.

The bedroom is spacious, tastefully furnished, with tall wardrobes lining the walls. The large window that leads to the balcony is secured by a heavy iron beam. Brianne's breath comes in ragged gasps, struggling and shallow.

Brianne shakes violently, sobbing as if gripped by an emotional storm.

«Did you dream about that night again?» Clare asks, lying beside her in the same bed. Her voice is sweet and soothing.

Brianne nods; the movement barely perceptible.

Clare, now sitting beside her, looks at her with a soft, heartbroken gaze. Her blue eyes are glossed over with tears, her own emotions on the brink of spilling over. «Calm down, Bry. I'm here with you» Clare whispers, pulling Brianne into a tight hug, her arms offering comfort during the despair. «It was just a nightmare, Bry. Just a nightmare»